pirates of the caribbean: a twist in time
by petuliaklimpt
Summary: It was 2017 when 15 year old Rachel Krominski died at sea. It was 1712 when she came back to life, as Anne Swann. Given the amount of twists in her life, she isn't sure about many things, but of the ones she is, are the facts that she'd do everything to protect her family and that a certain Mr. Norrington is rather interesting. (Go give this a chance)
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: Don't own Pirates of the caribbean, only my OC and I'm not getting any profit from writing this. **__**Please enjoy and if you liked it or would like me to continue, review. If not Its not likely I shall post again because, what would be the point really.**_

Screw adventure.

That was a repeating thought on my head as I died. Even my ears were burning, as I sunk deeper and deeper - not that I wasn't trying with all my strength to go back up, kicking and jumping without obtaining much more than an ache on my muscles, an ache people would expect to be insignificant when drowning and facing all different sorts of pain but contrary to popular belief, I felt each single thing. After a minute that felt like an hour, I began to feel more dizzy and less in pain, I know I don't want to inhale and that the moment I do I'll be doomed, but after a few seconds more I just do it, not really wanting to, not really ordering my brain to but doing it anyway, then everything gets much worse and the burn on my lungs as the salty water enters its way feels like the worst kind of pain a person can experience. I remember taking one second to think 'Oh my god, I am really dying' and then It went all calm, as if I were waking up from a nap. I closed my eyes and when I opened them, nothing was aching anymore and everything was clear and I could feel how the sun had warmt up the water and breathing wasn't necessary anymore; I was at a state I had never encountered before.

What's funny is that during all that struggle, as I battled for my last seconds of life, never did I lose grab of the locket. I wasn't aware of it right then, of course - perhaps If I had been I'd have thrown it far away, given that it was all in all the reason why I was in such a situation. It wasn't after weeks and months when I spent nights trying to recreate the events that lead to my death that I caught up on that funky detail. Was it even worth it? No, because after all the hell I went through for that rusty locket I have never seen it again. I guess at the moment it was pretty, well, who am I lying I may be pissed at it but it was gorgeous, hence why I wanted to take it. It was nothing like I had seen before, not that I ever got to see much from my small town in the south of Western Australia, but despite lacking of other artifacts to compare it with, I knew that what I had just seen at the bottom of the sea, resting on a rock, was quite unique. It was a hybrid between heart and crab shaped, if that's even possible, and a beautiful face seemed to be in the middle of it. I think I just wanted something pretty for myself.

Anyway, allow me to continue with my story, just because I died doesn't mean It's finished.

I spent what felt like a short eternity in that state, floating out of time, out of the real world. Whatever thoughts I had then, they were all peaceful and they didn't come too often, after all I didn't feel any need to think at all, I was at ease. I did think about the fact that I was dead and that it really didn't bother me, not one bit and I believe that was my one single thought for a good while. I was comfortable with spending the rest of eternity like that, In that place where I existed but no longer had a body, where never got dark and the water never got cold. After a while, every so often I'd hear muffled sounds, very soft and very distant, but I never paid any mind to that. It never occured to me that my time there, at that heaven-like place was coming to an end until the moment it actually did come to it.

It came to me as a slight discomfort, a rare feeling that I was unable to give a name to, given that I had already forgotten what anything but pure nicety, from then on it only grew to worse. In just one instant everything was dark and that warmness that had characterized the place where I had thought I'd be spending the rest of my days at, was beginning to fade away slowly. I was able to remember then how I felt as I drowned and my lungs were on fire and involuntarily I compared both situations and decided that what what I was feeling then and what I felt before were two completely different things - when I died I was drowning on pure agony and when I came back to life… I guess I was just uncomfortable. I could feel my limbs being tugged at everything getting squashed, that infinite space was suddenly beginning to feel smaller; I could feel everything go even colder and flashes of light returning, but unlike the soft brightness that had guarder me during all this time, the light I was getting now was fierce and unwelcoming; I could feel things coming to an end.

What I just described to you was childbirth; my own, but I didn't know that just yet.

I was breathing again, and confused, and I think I was crying. Voices could be heard, something I had forgotten as a concept. Colours were everywhere but everything was blurry and I could feel I was being managed around and that coldness I felt at the beginning was slowly fading away.

"It's a girl, Madam" a tired yet pleased near voice said, clear as water, but it meant nothing to me. It had been so long since I had heard actual words that weren't my own that I was in no state of understanding full sentences, worse yet, of knowing what a sentence was.

Soon, I was placed over something warm, finally and I clung to whatever it was instinctively, because if it was able to deliver such comfort, It oughta be good. I hoped it was good. It felt good. And, spoiler alert, it turned out to be good.

There were now two melodies cohabiting in the room, my weeping and that of steps, for someone was leaving the room - still, I knew I wasn't alone. As confused as I was, soon I was able to tell that the comforting heat was being delivered by a human, a woman, I didn't even need to look up to know that was the case. She was holding me tight to what I believe was her chest, and soon she caressed my temple with hands that felt soft and loving, and it reminded me of the time my aunt Cissy from the city had stayed with mother and I for a whole week one summer when I was eight, and she had allowed me to take a look at her clothes, very different from the ones one found in town, and she had this one blue dress made of silk, and that was the first time my rough hands ever touched anything like it; now these fingers were much softer.

I knew I had to look up; open my eyes and confirm what my other instics were telling me was going on, but it was all very difficult. For once, I tried not thinking of an explanation about whatever it was going on, instead distracting myself with things I could feel, like the warm and protective hold; things I could smell, something flowery and salty. It was hard, ignoring that recurring alert on my brain suggesting me that perhaps, this was not a temporary side effect of being death, something that'd go away just as the pain from the drowning had, and that I'd, perhaps, not go back to the calm state in which I had habitted for the last couple… whatever it was. I ignored that one voice telling me, 'You're small. Why are you small? Think about it, Rachel, your shape is very small' Yes, I ignored all that and focused on my crying, which was slowly dying down. Besides, the lights were too bright and it hurt.

I felt something soft and warmer pressing against my head, and it felt very close, almost as if whatever it was had been on direct contact with its actual skin, no hair or anything in between. Perhaps it was, as I soon came to understand some few seconds later, because I had no hair. The cries increased, I was slowly beginning to understand, even if I couldn't admit it even to myself just yet.

"May we get our Lord, madam?" a light voice asked, nervously, confirming me that in fact, there were several people in the room. It was very british.

"Yes, you may"

By the vibrations I felt coming off her chest and from how close the sound was I knew the person speaking was the one holding me. Besides, for some reason, one of which I still have no answer to but only wild guesses, a bit inside of me simply knew that such a gentle, slightly hoarse and yet silvery voice, belonged to that woman. 'Yes, that woman holding you. That woman who just birthed you' thoughts kept on bombarding me, and were more frequent and stronger each second it passed. It appeared that no matter how much I wished to dismiss the upcoming subject, It'd have to be dealt with.

I was able to hear footsteps again and I just knew someone else had entered the room. By the way the woman's body reacted ('the body that's holding you, because you're small and she's big and why are you so small Rachel?'), it was clear she was amicable with this person. I think I wasn't crying anymore, simply sobbing a little, because I was able to hear with all clearness all the sounds that were being made right then. The man was pleased with what he saw, happy even, if one could trust the sounds emitted.

"Isn't she small?" he spoke softly, fondly, and I could feel him leaning over me, his breath getting close. It was also not difficult to notice he was talking about me. His accent was also English, as was the woman's, when she answered.

"Very" the woman's voice was softer now than it was when answering to the other women from before. It was delicate and I remember trying to focus on the sweetness of it, for the truth was near to my understandment and I knew I'd need to clung onto something to keep myself sane for what I was about to accept.

"So it is an Anne, not a Charles" and as he said that he carefully laid a hand over my head. My bald, small head.

The woman didn't reply for a few seconds, and I tried thinking about how gentle this man's hand was and how sweet his voice sounded, for a man, instead of wondering who this Anna was, because a part of me already knew that.

"Our Anne" she kissed the top of my head again, right next to where the man's hand laid.

"Elizabeth shall be most delighted with the announcement"

And as the man pulled away his hand and I no longer had something in which to focus but the words that were being spoken and the fact that as my mind had been telling me until then, I was small, bold, and on the arms of a strange yet familiar woman who spoke of me lovingly and kissed my temples with gentleness, I accepted the reality I was now being introduced to, and of course, started crying again.

* * *

The first weeks were the worst.

Learning the fact that you had reincarnated and been born again was difficult because… well, it is difficult, as I'm sure you could understand without my explaining of it. Back while I was alive, well, before I died, I had never given 'the life after death' a serious thought, I guess I simply had more important subjects to worry about - but in such case, had I believed in reincarnation, I'd have been inclined to believe that when one was born into another body, it'd only be natural for that person not to remember a thing. It wasn't my case. I could remember just about the same things I was able to remember during that day at the ocean, when I drowned.

At first I had thought that maybe I could try speaking, explaining to someone that I wasn't supposed to be there, that my name was Rachel Krominski and not Anne Swann (yes, I'm aware now that an infant saying such things would've done me no good, but I was desperate back then, put yourself on my shoes) I had tried speaking, early in the morning after my nap, for I was born late at night, you see, but when I opened my mouth (with great effort, that was) no words came out, instead, a series of wordless sounds came out, making the person holding me - who was not the same woman who had birthed me, mutter a long and soft 'aw'. It appeared that although I was able to form coherent sentences on my mind, I wouldn't be able to speak a word until the muscles meant to deliver the sound were at least, a bit older than a day old.

Many things which I believed primal and had never given much thought to, I was now unable to do on my own. Turning around, feeding, moving from one spot to the other- all of those things, I needed someone assisting me to achieve. What was worst, It seemed impossible for me to spend more than an hour on a row awake, for I was asleep most of the day - also, I couldn't stay asleep for more than two.

I opened my eyes on the morning following my birth. I decided there was no use on keeping them closed, as if doing so would suddenly return me to my grown body - dead or not. It costed me great deal, for the blinds were open and the bright sunlight was entering the room - a room I was unable to explore, for the crib and my current position only allowed me to take a look at the ceiling, which was white. Even moving my head to the sides was a struggle, so I didn't get to see much of the crib or my body either. I must've made some noise I supposed, because after a few minutes I felt a person approaching.

A woman in her early twenties appeared before me, tired eyes but a soft smile on her lips. She had cornish blonde hair, much like the one I used to have, covered in a bonnet; an oval-like face with pale cheeks, and grey eyes. Not that I could see much of her clothes, but she seemed to be wearing an old fashioned modest dress, quite an odd choice but then again, I had just died and been reborn, so I couldn't talk about strangeness. Once again, I can't tell for certain how I knew what I knew then, only speculate, but I was aware that wasn't the woman who had held me before, the one who was supposed to be my mother; and this woman confirmed me that by speaking on a completely different voice as she leaned to pick me up: "You've opened your eyes, little miss Anne" yes, she spoke affectionately, after all, babies inspired that kind of tone on people, but the tenderness wasn't nearly as close as the other woman's had been.

I'd have liked to say I put more struggle when she attempted to feed me, straight from her breast, but I was far too hungry and way too weak - cries couldn't do much to stop a grown up woman from doing something. It surprised me when it was her the one feeding me, since I had been so sure the other one had been the one who birther me, but that was all clarified when I was finished and taken to the room where I was born, where my 'mother' rested. I also wish I could say I saw a great deal of the house on my way from one room to the other, but being a baby is complicated and I must confess to have fallen asleep in the middle of feeding, only to have woken up while being moved from one pair of arms to others.

I'd also wish I could say that whoevers arms held me made no difference to me, that I resented both equally, but that was not true. Looking back, I can confirm that whenever Josephine Swann held me, I was most at ease.

"Opened her eyes this morning, you say, Stella?" she was running a finger over the bridge of my nose, and it was such a comfortable gesture that I almost fell back asleep, but I forced myself not to, willing to get as much information as I was able to. Still, I kept my eyes closed, since it was even brighter in this room and it scared me to look at this sweet woman with soft touch, for that would make everything much more real.

"Yes, ma'am. Babe was fed and then brought here, as you demanded"

"Good. I will be the one feeding her during the mornings, unless I shall have any other obligation. You shall do so during the night"

"Are you sure, ma'am? You just gave birth and should be regaining your strength. I shall not want to perturb you"

It seemed obvious that what my supposed mother was proposing wasn't something this Stella girl approved of, and it was also clear that Stella found it difficult to contradict her, it appeared now that Stella, the woman who had breast feeded me, was an employer.

"It's no perturbation. I did the same thing with Elizabeth and quite enjoyed it, isn't that right, Mrs. Cartwright?"

"Indeed" another woman, a voice that sounded to be a further than the other two answered. Helen Cartwright was fixing the curtains and trying very hard not to let her real opinion on the matter to show through her words, and that was that she thought although lovely, was obstinate wanting to feed her own children - the reason I know of this, is because I'd hear her later talking about it with Miss Stella as she carried me back to my chambers. She, then added: "I'll bring your morning meal now, Mrs. Swann. I hadn't expected you to be up so early after last night"

"That shall be alright. Has Mr. Swann already left for parliament?"

"I believe he was gone about twenty minutes ago"

"Yes, he came over to the nursery and kissed Miss Anne goodbye" Stella added, most delighted "He seems to dote on her already, don't you think so Mrs. Swann?"

That was sweet, I had to admit, even back then. Although I held no wishes on being an infant and having these people as parents, It pleased me to see when affection was showed from a father to a child, since it was always quite rare, especially when it came to me.

"He is an excellent father" and I could feel she was smiling."Is Elizabeth awake yet?"

"Not yet, ma'am. I was waiting until 8:00 o'clock, since the governess' still indisposed" Mrs. Cartwright apologized "I shall wake her immediately if you allow me"

"That's quite alright, Mrs. Cartwright. Wake her and tell her to come here, she can have her morning meal in bed, with us" a few seconds of tense silence passed, then, I felt her chest vibrating, for she was chuckling, a graceful laugh that not many people managed to acquire during their lives "Don't' look so aggrieved, dear . It shall only be this one time. Do consider that if not brought up here immediately, she shall keep on asking about the babe; she was restless last night"

"That you are right, ma'am" the now slightly softened voice of Mrs. Cartwright said "I shall do as you asked me. Come, Stella"

Soon they were gone and I could feel there were now only two other people left in the room, that being myself and the woman who held me. I could tell she was staring at me so instinctively I clenched my eyes shut, as if to prevent them from opening by accident - she giggled at that, and once again I realized what an almost magical sound that was. She caressed my head after that, and then, a few seconds later she drew her face closer to mine, for I could feel her breath and her nose touching my forehead slightly. Then, almost on a whisper, as she was sharing a secret with me, she said "I shall forever be in love with you"

And I don't know how that was possible, but I could physically feel that she was telling the true and that scared me, because I liked it. I don't think I've ever been loved with such a force, and I am damn sure that up until that point no one had said those words to me: no boys, no family, not even weirdos on the internet. That was my first time having someone to tell me they were in love with me and despite the situation, it felt kind of nice.

She kept me on an embrace for a few more minutes, as my mind reprimanded itself saying it'd be of no help liking such things when I should be worrying about the fact that I was a one day old infant who before that was a dead fifteen year old girl with a different name, a different place on the passport and definitely a different (thought not better) mother.

Door opening, feet walking quickly, and I could feel the woman smiling at that. The newly arrived made its way towards the bed, and when it was close enough to grab at it, I was able to hear her voice, which was obviously that of a curious child:

"Is that it?"

My 'mother' patted the bed with her free hand and I could feel the child struggling a bit to get up, pulling on the sheets and covers, and the woman had to shift a little in order to help her. Once she was up, I could feel how her face was over me, because it provided a shadow. Now, I'm not an idiot and knew that this little girl was supposed to be my new sister, and I grew curious too, almost as much as she was about me; maybe, she was in the same situation as I was; perhaps this family had a thing with birthing reincarnated girls; maybe this new 'sister' of mine could help me. So I opened my eyes.

"See, she's observing you, Elizabeth"

She was staring intensely, as if studying if I was of her interest or not. Her neck was crooked to the side, so her head could be in same line as mine, and she had a frown, which was funny considering she was a little girl and seemed to be taking the whole 'checking the stranger' quite seriously.

However, I was aware pretty soon that those were the eyes of a child and a child only, so my chances of her being in the same situation as I was were pretty much destroyed. Instead of focusing too much on the very slim opportunity I had just lost, I decided to observe her instead, not wanting to upset myself and instead keep my mind busy and perhaps, give me a hint of what I looked like - assuming I had also lost my looks, as I had my life, skill to walk by myself and name.

No older than five, that was for sure - then again, I didn't know much about kids, since I hadn't had siblings back when I was Rachel Krominski, nor cousins, nor many neighbors, but still her little face couldn't had belonged to anyone older than that. She had fair skin, narrowed brown eyes and dark blonde locks, and appeared to be wearing a white linen-like nightgown. Altogether, she seemed like a healthy child that was well taken care of, which was comforting, to a certain degree.

"She has eyes like mine" she suddenly said, turning her head to look at her mother, as if that was all she had gotten from me; which to be fair, was understandable - how many things could you learn from a boring baby by just looking at it?

Following her example, without even realizing it, I allowed my eyes to wander over to the face of her mother. I wasn't able to see much, since moving my head was too difficult and from the angel I was at I could only see so much, but the moment I saw her, I was able to confirm what without knowing for sure I had already adopted as a fact: she was beautiful, as simple as that.

Josephine Swann was the representation of what those people spending thousands of dollars on plastic surgery and cosmetics expected to look like once all their procedures were finished. She had long wavy blonde hair, a few shades darker than Elizabeth's, and while a bit messy because she was still in bed, it didn't lose its charm. The fairest of skin, not a mark nor a dark spot to be found, and she also had admirable facial bone structure. Her eyes were a soft brown, as her daughter's, and I realized that I, too, had those eyes as well, judging by what that little girl had said. Around her lips, there formed small lines when she smiled, and all together in the morning light, she looked like an angel.

"Indeed she does" She said plasedly "This is Anne, Elizabeth. You're a big sister now"

"Are you a big sister too?"

"No, I am her mother, as am yours" she explained calmly.

"No, before, when you were like me"

"When I was four like you?" Elizabeth nodded "No, I have always been a little sister, like Anne. Your aunt Mary was my big sister, and your uncle George my big brother"

"Then how are you going to teach me?" she asked furrowing her forehead, making her mother nod, finally understanding where her older daughter was heading to with her inquires.

"You shall learn on your own" she said, extending a hand over to her face and pinching one of her fat cheeks with fondness "But foremost, you have got to take care of her"

"Because she's so little?"

"Yes, and because she looks up to you"

"Oh"

After she said that, looking as if she finally understood all that being an older sister was about, she leaned over, steading herself up with her arms, and taking a last look at my face, she kissed me around the nose. It was a sloppy, innocent kiss and it kind of felt like a promise. Despite the situation, I felt moved.

Breakfast arrived after on big trails and I had to do my best not to drool over the bread, or the fruit, or that warm tea. Milk wasn't too bad if one didn't think about the means which had helped me acquire it, but it still wasn't as good as real, solid, food but I was aware that being a newborn food such as that one wouldn't be handed to me, and even if it were, considering I didn't even have the strength not skill to speak, I'd surely not be able to swallow big chunks of it.

As the person who was supposed to be my new mother said before, that was the only time Elizabeth ever had breakfast in bed in our company, whereas mother stayed in her room for another week and two days, recovering from birth. I was brought there every morning, as she had requested, and she'd be the one in charge of feeding most of the times, while Stella took charge of the matter during the nights (yes, being a baby meant that my hunger was recurrent, waking me up every three or four hours with luck).

Father was a busy man and worked for the government, or so it seemed, but he was also very in love with his wife and worried constantly about his two daughters. Each day, he'd go over to mother's room and they'd talk affectionately and he'd always kiss my head goodbye as Stella took me to my own chambers so I could get some rest, and allow my mother to do the same. I didn't have much experience with good men back from my old life, I believed those creatures were myths only shown on movies or tvs but never in real life, but Weatherby Swann had proved to be the exception of that.

My new 'older' sister came by to my crib every single morning. She obviously managed to wake up earlier than I did, for she was always on her nightgowns and unaccompanied when she showed up and had I not been giving my mind a hard time overthinking situations and enjoying the few moments of peace while Stella slept, I'd have missed her, for she was as careful and silent as a mouse. Being quite short due to her age, she naturally wouldn't have been able to reach the crib on her own, so each morning she grabbed one of the packages someone must've given before my birth; she'd tumble it on the floor, and then step on it; once she was high enough that most of her face would show from the white wood, she'd stare at me for a few seconds, making sure everything was well, then she'd lean over and plant a quick kiss on my forehead and then get everything to be just as it was before she came in, leaving before anyone could tell her off. True to her promise, she made sure I was alright, and that, despite my frustration due to my unusual situation, made my heart feel warm and jolly. Besides that, anytime she had free from her studies or any arrangements a four year old could have, she'd go over to her mother's chambers and spend her time there with the both of us.

During the afternoons some people would come over for visit, to meet the new baby and bring presents. They'd all chatter around the room, muttering congratulations on a healthy child. To me, it was terribly clear that mother was uncomfortable with it, but that was only because I'd be there to witness the relief bathing her face as soon as the last one of them would leave, but she could've passed as a convincing actress for to everyone else, she didn't show anything but a charming smile full of gratitude.

It took me some whole three days to accept the fact that I was not in the twenty first century anymore. Which year exactly was it, I could not tell, for my historical knowledge had never been very accurate, but I was certain that It was not even a near to 2017 - the year when I had died. What gave that information away was a series of things which I managed to find a mediocre explanation each time they'd be presented to me, because anything's better than to admit that you're now stuck about 200 or 300 years in the past, to name only a few: the way everyone dressed: lace caps, gowns and petticoats for women and wigs, waistcoats and even fashionable canes which were obviously of no real use for them; the fact Elizabeth made use of a governess and I of a 'wet nurse' as had called Stella; the mentioning of a 'Queen Anne' and the rumour that as a result of the act of settlement and the fact that Her Majesty was childless, soon she shall be succeeded by a cousin from the house of Hanover; most importantly, the fact that there was no electricity.

Had I not just been reborn after drowning, I'd have been far more shocked by it, but It still wounded me to some degree. Before realizing it, I had thought of somehow managing to escape and perhaps meet with some of my friends, that although weren't many, I knew were loyal enough to help me out shall I need it - the fact that it'd be another two hundred years at least for them to be born made things a bit difficult. I cried a lot during the succeeding days, and I was beginning to get into everyone's nerves, everyone's but hers. Two different doctors who weren't able to find not a single thing wrong with me, and I still wouldn't stop.

I believed it was my sixth or seventh day of crying non stop from the moment I opened my eyes to the second I closed them to have brief sessions of sleep, and I was laying on my back over the comfortable bed as mother brushed Elizabeth's hair and the little one observed me - without my awareness, that was, because I was far too focused on drying my eyes out.

"Why is Anne always crying, mama?"

That made Josephine Swann stop for a short second with what she was doing, slight worry visible on her face, but soon she easily continued with the brushing and put on a calm, assuring smile. My attention was also partly in their conversation.

"I think is because she misses all the other angels"

"Was Anne an angel, mama?"

"Yes, and a precious one she was, that's why she was placed in the home of another dear angel" she said kissing Elizabeth's cheek as she finished with her hair.

"Is that other angel me, mama?" the little one asked eagerly, finding the whole idea very exciting. I must admit, I found it that way too.

Mother was unable to give an answer, for something else had caught up Elizabeth's attention and she was soon pointing at it, changing the subject as she cried with happiness: "Look, mama! She is not crying anymore"

After that day I didn't cry as often. I don't know what did it, perhaps it was the sweetness in which Josephine Swann had explained the whole subject; may it was that flash of worry I had seen on her face and heard on Elizabeth's voice, making me feel guilty for provoking such a feeling in people who had been nothing but overly nice to me; or maybe I was simply running out of tears and coming down with the fact that it was what it was and I wouldn't be able to change it.

Little by little, I accepted what I was offered. On those first few weeks, I remember thinking 'Well, it could be worse' and indeed it could, for I had been presented with the best kind of life one could have in the early 18th century, as I had come to learn the year was: I had not only a good name, but also wealth and health, and most importantly, I had a very loving family. About two years after, I started to think of it as a second opportunity, one in which I could be happy, for God knew I hadn't had any of the things before mentioned on my old life. Living four hundred years in the past wasn't ideal, but soon I began to love it - I had always been a romantic soul, finding past times full of surprises and very welcoming for adventure, truth is that if asked, I'd have chosen to live during the 1970s, live the whole rock and roll madness or perhaps the roaring 20s, but the 17th Century had its own charms, and I learnt them day by day.

It was on September of 1716 when I realized I was much happier with this life than I was with the previous one, despite the obstacles this one presented; that day was one I still remember as clear as water.

Mama, who I no longer referred as anything but that or 'mother', had fallen ill with severe pneumonia but that the doctors simply called lungs infection, a disease that back in my own time It could've been almost easily treated with antibiotics, but that here made everyone think of my mother as a doomed woman already. Elizabeth and I had both been forbidden from entering her chambers, in fears we might catch the disease as well, so we were left to worry about mother without even sharing a sweet word or embrace with her. Josephine Swann had been in bed for over two weeks, and judging by the face my father carried on the rare times when we'd see him, it was likely she wouldn't be able to survive the night. Elizabeth who was 8 at the time, had grabbed me by the hand and rushed me towards Mrs. Cartwright, who also seemed deeply affected by the situation.

"We desire to help mother" she had demanded for the both of us, leaving me to nod eagerly. She had wanted to break into her chambers when the nurses had left to rest, but I had convinced her otherwise, knowing how contagious pneumonia was and that nothing would break our father's heart more than having his two daughters in the same situation as his wife. Instead, I suggested my sister we should try helping mother some other way, and thankfully, she decided to listen to her four year old sister.

Mrs. Cartwright had looked the most touched by our demand, her eyes filled with tears and looking as if she had grown older during those past few weeks. During my years at the house I came to learn that Mrs. Helen Cartwright was over fifty, and had started working for the family when Mr. and Mrs. Swann had just gotten married, which had been at least ten years before Elizabeth's birth. Although stern and at times scary, Mrs. Cartwright worried immensely about the whole family, and considered my mother to be the closest thing to a child to her, for all of hers had died at war. For the first time ever, she looked fragile and scared, and kneeling down to be on the same level as us, she said with a strange soft voice:

"If you want to do something for our Mrs. Josephine, you shall both go up to your chambers and pray to our Lord in Heaven for her health, for she is very ill. Think of one very dear thing you would be willing to abandon for your mother's well-being. That shall be all you can do now, my dears"

And so we did, we prayed all night. Back in my old life, I hadn't been very religious myself. Although I had been born as the daughter of a jewish man, I wasn't one myself, for my mother wasn't either and never worried too much about involving me in that sort of things. I always believed there was something else in there, even if It didn't always help me, but never gave it too much thought. In my new life, religion was a bigger deal than it had been, and I must admit that enjoyed the reassurance that a superior being was watching over me and my loved ones, it put my mind at ease, but still, I had my doubts. During that night, as my beloved mother laid dying in her bed, I prayed hard. I thought of how I would chose to give up any other life I may have had before that one, if that meant that Josephine Swann would open her eyes one day more.

I realized then, that I much did prefer everything in this life than I did from the old one. Being treated as an infant, despite the fact that my mind was older suddenly didn't bother me in the least; the lack of electricity or freedom to go where I pleased neither did. I was much happy with things as they were then, and wished them to keep on being that way.

From that day on, my faith in God also grew stronger, because the next morning, a miracle had occurred: Mrs. Swann seemed to be recovering, or so the doctor had said; he believed it had been the medicine, Elizabeth and I knew it had been our prayers.

Mother lived with relative good health for the next couple of years, being as loving and understanding as always, and I can say with fair certainty that we enjoyed each second we all spent together as a family and that I tried my hardest to learn from mother, for she truly was the woman I most looked up to. The day she passed was very sour, but I felt as if she left in peace; we cried her for days, the entire household, but felt her touch each time the sun would touch our skins - she passed away in 1721, when I was aged nine and she was forty two. Although awfully young for 21st century standards, I was aware that my mother had lived a long enough live for the time. Anger had stricken me, because I thought it rather unfair that such a good person as herself would live for such a short among of time, whereas people like my real mother and her multiple boyfriends would be likely to outlive her at least twice - but that, was a thought that remained a secret from everyone else.

My father's promotion couldn't have arrived at a better time, in that we all agreed. Although London had been the home of the Swann family for many generations, it seemed too blue, too cold and too crowded after Josephine's passing, and the house as well seemed to have lost a bit of its magic and warm after that dreadful day. By appointment of the new king, George I, my father was made Governor of Port Royal and meant to sail as soon as possible with the rest of his family.

Because my geography wasn't nearly as bad as my history, I knew Port Royal was in Jamaica and soon, despite the grieve of losing the only person I cared to call a mother, I grew excited. Back in my old live, I had lived next to the ocean and learnt to love it; even if it took my life, the ocean was still a magical place my heart longed to return - with my new family, we payed visit to the coasts a few times, but during all of those I was under strict supervision, since I was nothing but a young child whose swimming skills were seen at best as non-existent. Besides, It had always been a dream of mine to travel overseas, I'd say, that had been my main goal all those years back when I went by the name of Rachel.

We sailed to Port Royal November 1771, a full seven months since my mother's passing. Father had been very nervous, I remember it quite well, but he tried hard to hide that from Elizabeth and I, not wanting to unnerve any of us - I made it my task to hug him tightly as we left the London port behind, resting my cheek over his chest, while Elizabeth lost herself with all the oddities a boat provided - that was her first time in one, and was beyond excited; father ran his arm around my shoulders, holding me with fondness.

"Are you afraid, Annie?" he asked, making use of the family nickname I was given a long time ago.

"No, I am with you" and I meant it.

He caressed my hair after, and looked down on me with immense fondness, and I hoped my words may have given him the strength he needed.

The ride to Port Royal took seven long weeks, and each time one passed our excitement to arrive grew stronger. I considered myself inmensibly lucky I counted with Elizabeth on board, for if not, I'd have died out of boredom since most talks in the ship were about politics when it came to the officers, or rather unappropriated ones if it involved the sailors. Although unwanted by some members of the crew, for we were women (or on our way to being so) Elizabeth and I managed to spend our days at the ship mostly unbothered, finding ways to play games and talking about the most randoms of topics. When things were starting to get a bit boring, and that was around week number four, something happened, which lead to another two things, and those two things kept us entertained

Elizabeth and I were caught singing about pirates, a song we had learnt two years back from one of our parents' friends children, how they came to learn about that song, I wouldn't know. Perhaps it wasn't the wisest thing to do while on a navy ship, but we were growing bored and we wanted to take a look at the blue sea, and one thing lead to another, next thing we know, Mr. Gibbs is grabbing my sister by the shoulder, telling us not to do such thing.

I really didn't know what possessed me, but I grew incredibly scared; now, a few years later I think I can give it a name. Back in my old life, I had been used to corporal punishment, not that I got beaten up, but more often than not, some of my mother's boyfriends would perhaps pull my arm a bit too harsh, or squeeze a bit too strongly, but ever since I had been Anne Swann, the closest thing I had ever been from any sort of harsh treatment to my physical body was when one bratty child, son of a Lord, had pushed me at dinner, once (only to have Elizabeth to defend me after). I guess seeing it again, after so many years, must have started me, so when I head a rebuking voice from behind and saw my father standing behind a lieutenant, I ran towards him with eyes wide from fear and my small heart beating as fast as ever, and clung to his waist as I hid my face on his chest - I was able to see lieutenant Norrington giving me a curious look before returning to lecturing Mr. Gibbs. My father, who rarely saw me scared of anything, wrapped his arms around me and gave me a worried look.

"They were singing about pirates!" the old man accused with a finger "Bad luck to be singing about pirates on this unnatural fog. Mark my words"

"Consider them marked" The young lieutenant said, almost dismissively "On your way"

"Aye, Lieutenant" and as he left, I could hear him muttering some other things. I assumed nothing we hadn't heard before, about how bad luck bringing women into the boat was.

I didn't show my face off from my father's chest until I heard Elizabeth' voice. Good thing I did, because father was starting to grow worried.

"I think I'd be rather exciting to meet a pirate"

"Think again, Miss Swann" Lieutenant Norrington said as he walked closer to the edge, hands together on his back "Vile and dissolute creatures the lot of them. I intend to see to it that any man who sails under a pirate flag or wears a pirate brand gets what he deserves: a short drop and a sudden stop"

Both Elizabeth and I were unlucky enough to catch glimpse of Mr. Gibbs making a hanging gesture as none of the adults were looking at him, sending chills down my spine and making my sister gasp. Father obviously noticed both things, and quickly with a hand still on my bag, he walked closer to Lieutenant Norrington.

"Lieutenant Norrington, I appreciate your fervor but I'm… I'm concerned about the effects this subject will have upon my daughters"

"My apologies governor Swann" the young man said as he walked away.

My head was still half buried on my father's chest as Elizabeth claimed she found the whole pirates deal quite fascinating, slowly helping me return back to reality and leave that odd rush of fear behind. That was a very Elizabeth thing to say, and it made me smile, despite father's clear distaste for it. Just after informing his oldest daughter about his discomfort with her subject of interest, he lowered his view down to me, worry visible on his brown eyes.

"Are you quite alright, Anne dear?"

I offered him a smile and a nod, although that wasn't quite the case year, for I still felt a little dizzy and not fully recovered; clearly I had upsetted him and that I regretted. He nodded at me after studying me for a bit, trying to decide If I was lying to him or telling the truth (deciding for the latest), and then walked away to attend some other matters.

Elizabeth grabbed my hand straight away, and we returned to the same we had been doing before Mr. Gibbs interruption - minus the singing, that is - we weren't so reckless and disrespectful as to do that. I'm not sure which one of us saw it first, but what I know is that it caused very different reaction on the two of us.

"Look, a boy! There's a boy in the water!" my sister shouted, as I felt very lightheaded and everything spinning a bit too fast.

I am aware a commotion was taking place around me, obviously all inspired by that boy both my sister and I saw laying on the sea, but I wasn't able to be an active part of it, for I felt my body give away. Not the best of places to faint I had chosen, but it seemed as there was no stopping it: had a strong hand not caught me right then.

Last thing I saw before everything turning black was Lieutenant Norrington's frowned face, as he said 'Careful there, Miss Swann".

My father ran to where I laid as soon as he realized of what has been of me, scolding himself for even believing me when I said I was alright. I wasn't out for too long, and once I recovered coincidence my father's face seemed to be bathed in relief. I was taken to my cabin after that, advised by my father to get some sleep, but I just simply couldn't do that. Instead, I began thinking about two things: Pirates and Lieutenant Norrington, each as intriguing as the other.

Up until that point, I had never cared to give pirates much thought. After all, it wasn't a subject discussed around children around mine or Elizabeth's age, altogether, it wasn't a subject much discussed around gentle houses as my own. What I knew of them, I knew it from my other life, and I was positive most things I had heard back then, along with many others about different subjects, were wrong. Pretty much my basic understanding of them was that they were dangerous and barbaric, and while many stories and movies and shows tried to show them a great deal better than they were, in reality they were muttiners, murderers and sometimes, people who damaged women in many more ways than physical. My opinion on then, from that day on, was a negative one.

Regarding Lieutenant Norrington, my opinion was far different. It had been many moons since I had last taken interest on a man. Back when I wasn't Anne Swann, I had never fallen in love or had anyone fall in love with me, and all the boys I ever was interested in were either famous movie stars or people who I knew would never give me the hour of the day - when I died, at sixteen, I had yet to be kissed. When I was reborn as Anne, I worried that perhaps my older mind would make me fall in love with men its age, but that wasn't the case; although I was never anything but bored with boys my age I had neither found any interest on older gentlemen, for I had many other things to worry about and my mind, thought older, somehow molded into that of the age I currently was. The closest thing I had ever gotten to fancying someone, was when I admitted to Elizabeth to find Mr. Cardinald of seventeen was rather handsome when asked about who would I hope to marry was I given the choice, sending her into a fit of laughter, for I was only eight and it seemed so comic. Perhaps it was silly, but I thought the way Lieutenant Norrington had defended us earlier with Gibbs and the way he saved me from falling into sea was rather romantic, and on top of that, he was what many people would consider attractive, not older than 19, I believe.

One of the two things that changed that day, was the fact that I developed an awkward, silly, childish crush on the Lieutenant. I'd flush whenever he'd pass by, and would spend the rest of my days on the ship observing him and making sure no one noticed I was doing such thing, for that'd have been most embarrassing. Whenever he did notice me looking, he'd send a respectful smile my way, and instead of feeling heartbroken by those (because it was very obvious he did so to be polite and nothing else) I found myself rather liking the gesture, for it'd be creepy if he did intent anything else but that given that I had the body of a child (and mind too, to a certain degree) and also, because the fact that he was kind enough to acknowledge my existence without actually having to when my father wasn't around, spoke greatly about the kind of man he was.

The longest we ever interacted after he saved me from falling off the ship was this one morning when most people were still asleep and I had decided to go overboard to play with my cat pet, Sage, who had been a present from mother on my sixth birthday and the only reason I had been allowed to bring aboard was because It could help get rid of the rats (or so had the sailors said). I was sitting on the floor, taking advantage of the fact that most people who could've told me off for doing such an unlady like thing were still fast asleep, and I was moving around a chord of wool and she was entertaining herself trying to take hold of it when she slipped - due to the dew on the floors, sending her spinning for a meter or two; it was quite a fun thing to witness, since I knew she couldn't get hurt from that. What stopped dear Sage from keep advancing a meter or two more, were two large feet; looking up, I saw those belonged to lieutenant Norrington. Immediately, I went crimson as I got up from that very unlady-like position I was in, but he paid no much mind to that, instead leaning down to pick up the animal with a spark of amusement on his eyes. He held her with one hand as I was in front of him

"I believe this little beast to be yours, Miss Swann" he announced, as he suppressed a smile. Perhaps had I been a regular child, I wouldn't have noticed that, but I was able to tell he was diverted from the situation and not at all mad about it, unlike many other gentlemen or sailors, who would have told her off in no time.

"Yes, that's my Sage. I apology Lieutenant Norrington. I shall be more careful in the future" I said clearly as I hoped the redness from my cheeks would be leaving by then.

Doing something very good natured, he chuckled, surprising me. Almost instantly, he returned to his usual seriousness, for he was still a Lieutenant and had a reputation to maintain. Still, although he appeared serious on the surface, I could tell his words held the same amount of amusement as he was feeling.

"Indeed you and your Sage should, miss Swann"

He handed the ginger cat to me then, and along he left. Unfortunately for him, that action did nothing but remind me what a good natured person Lieutenant Norrington was.

The other thing that changed that day, was the fact that Elizabeth and I had gained a new friend abroad, and his name was William Turner. He had been the boy we saw on the sea, and apparently father had commanded my sister to look after him. He was the most kind, a very good natured individual and in that, he reminded me of my mother. Besides that, he was also very fun to be around with, and since he didn't have much option around, whenever he wasn't scrubbing floors or washing decks, he never turned down an occasion to play with Elizabeth and I. Before him, I never really found much interest on playing with people around my age, confiding my amusement to Elizabeth and my parents, but Will certainly had a way to making games interesting.

Life at Port Royal was kind to us, and I feel we deserved it. Not once did any of us fall ill, and we often received loving letters from Mrs. Cartwright, who had decided to stay in England to look after her sister. The city was small and nothing like London; warm all year around and with a magical touch about it. Elizabeth and I certainly favoured Jamaica over England, and father didn't mind that much for as long as we were happy.

My crush on the now Captain Norrington, I must say, unlike my believes of it dying down the minute we reached earth grew only stronger and a bit less silly and a bit more serious. It got the point of being almost ridiculous from the lasting of my early teenage years, blushing uncontrollably and doing the silliest things to gain his attention (and not succeeding at them)

But not everything revolved around men. It hadn't been that way in 2017 and I had decided not to make it so in the 1720s. In Port Royal I managed to gain back many of the hobbies I had pursued during my first life, as well as continue with many others I had gained during my young years in London. Although not greatly approved by my father, I managed to convince him every so often to allow me to visit the beach, on his company or appropriate one, of course - although I simply couldn't go in for a swim, for that's not only be inappropriate but also dangerous, I contempted myself with the touch of my feet on the sand (besides, I'm not really sure I was prepared to swim at open ocean after what happened last time). I continued with mother's passion for music, and every single day, I managed to practise with the piano, which I knew filled my father's heart with joy, for it reminded him of mama. At last, I continued to read a lot, firstly because I enjoyed it, secondly because father encouraged it, thirdy because sometimes there wasn't much to do and finally, and only a small part of it, because I wanted to be smarter, more intelligent and simply be prepared to impress James Norrington during a conversation, shall it happen to take place at any point.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Hi! sorry about the long absence, but I was fixing up my other story, 'Dragonis' and then I was writing a new chapter for that one and then Holidays happened and then life happened and well, here we are. After this chapter I've planned for Anne to have more action of her own and not to depend so much on Elizabeth, but during this one its still pretty much a chapter to get to know Anne and some of her values and stuff, along with the introduction of Captain Jack Sparrow, of course._**

**_Please enjoy and review if you want me to post another chapter, because if there are no reviews that means people are not really reading it and whats the point of posting a story if no one's gonna read it. That being said, thank you so much to last chapters 3 revieweres! _**

**_Disclaimer, I don't own pirates of the caribbean. _**

Anne Swann opened her eyes exactly at six thirty in the morning and was able to confirm that by simply taking a look at the small wooden clock resting on her nightstand. Knowing that day was going to be a big and long one and that she should've taken as much sleep as possible, but the nervousness she felt the previous night wouldn't even let her close her eyes for longer than a few seconds without worrying about each fiddling thing that could occur to her, instead she stayed up until late hours, reading '_La princesse de Clèves_' for what seemed the tenth time in a period of two years - it had belonged to Elizabeth and she never was one for reading, so she passed it on to her sister when she was old enough to understand it and ever since then she has been very fond of it.

Still, despite what she thought was a repprochabe behaviour from the previous night, she was as awake as ever and It appeared as If she had plenty of time to get ready, which was handy since she intended to look her best for the day, due to various reasons that was. Her father always mocked her sleeping schedule, saying it was rather country-like that she should wake up so early each day even when there were no obligations where to be at - her sister, on the other hand, tended to wake at more fashionable hours, doing justice to her city girl breeding. Not that she had told this to anyone, but Anne believe that was a habit carried from the other life, back when she used to run early to the beach, to catch the prettiest views and still be on time for breakfast and school.

Enjoying some last minutes of quiet solitude and after petting her dear old Sage on the head, for it slept on the end of the bed; Anne stood up and went over to the small pile of books kept on the corner of the room and picked up her next victim, which turned out to be some Shakespeare, again. One of the worst things about living in 18th century Port Royal was the fact that reading options were far more limited than one would like. More than once she'd found lusting after some Harry Potter or even Pride and Prejudice, but It does no good to dream about things you can't have. Instead, she smiled as she placed '_Otello_' under her arm, and left it on her night table, so she'd have some entertaining later tonight.

Getting into a robe, for she knew that It would be better start getting ready, she rang the bell and not more than five minutes later, the maids, Celeste and Estrella were making their way in, both already used to her waking times, for each had been members of the staff for at least three years now. Anne liked them, but more often than not found herself missing dear old Mrs. Cartwright. Still, the girls were alright and proved themselves to be beyond hardworking, and she appreciated that since despite their lack of knowledge about it, she had been a hard working girl once too.

"Good morning, Miss Anne" they both sang as they proceeded to open the windows, and make the bed.

She smiled at them as she sat down in front of the vanity table and Estrella, the one with the softest hands began brushing her wavy hair, which was now quite long, after years of not trimming it, similar to a mane really. She must confess that part of her wish of growing it long was because she wanted it to look a bit more like her mother's, for she still thinks she had the prettiest of hairs.

"You rose up quite early this morning, miss" Celeste commented, as she sprayed some perfume on the sheets.

"Didn't expect you up for another twenty minutes" Estrella added.

Anne grinned sheepishly at both of them, feeling very much teenage like for she was about to share a secret she had kept for herself during the last week. She hadn't even told Elizabeth, but that was mainly because she wanted to keep it for herself for as long as possible; holding a sweet secret in the 18th century was the most fun a girl could have, and it was entertaining to have her sister pleading for her to tell.

"To-day is Captain Norrington's promotion" she confessed, trying to keep the redness away from her cheeks, for she didn't want them to know about her true feelings regarding that man. He was, after all, the sweetest secret Anne had, and the only person who she suspected knew about her fancying of the captain was her very own sister and telling her had never been necessary, she simply sensed it.

"How exciting!" Estrella cried, her eyes lighting up with interest "He is a most fine man, the Captain"

Anne smiled, and decided to say no more than ought, simply settling with a "I believe he is"

It took about an hour to get her hair done, make up (which consisted of so little as rouge on the pale cheeks, not too visible for it was a outdoor event during the daylight) and getting herself into a dress. Her choice for the day had been carefully meditated ever since she learnt of the event and she was most pleased with it as she stared on the mirror. The gown had belonged to Mrs. Swann, and although worn at least a dozen times, It was the first time she, Anne, would be the one in it, for it had been left to her care days prior her mother's death and back then she had been a scrawny little child, unable to fit in it; now although not fully grown (or at least she hope not) she was able to admit it looked rather lovely on her frame. It was pale blue coloured polonaise gown with thin lighter horizontal lines running through it and an en fourreau back. There were still some memories attached to her heart of her mother wearing it, and that made a warm feeling grow on her chest.

The youngest Swann wasn't ugly, that she could admit. Elizabeth and her both looked rather similar, but while the oldest took after their mother almost completely, Anne was more of a mixture between both parents. As Elizabeth had said many years ago, while her sister was still a newborn, they shared same brown eyes, but while her hair was that of a dark blonde, Anne's was brown - besides some minor differences, both shared the same facial structure and nose, and that little beauty mark over their right eyebrow; anyone could easily tell they were sisters. However, while Elizabeth was already a lady at twenty years of age, Anne stood still more a child than a woman at sixteen, for her chest had only just started showing and her hips were only a recent thing. She was satisfied with the way she looked, and hoped that someday, the man she wanted would too.

Perhaps she spent more time than she should've staring into the mirror. Vanity was never one of her faults during her old life, wasn't pretty enough to have such sin, and had more important things to take care of, and while she wouldn't say this was her main flaw in this life, it has certainly grown in importance. Guess all the pretty gowns, parties and titles really played their part. Still, despite her slip, she managed to be on time for breakfast, as it always was at the same hour.

Her father's muffled voice could be heard as she made way to the dining room, Sage following close behind, for it was time for her to have breakfast too. Governor Swann was talking to one of the staff, arranging things for some special dinner he was planning on throwing that very same day on Commodore Norrington's behalf, but his voice and eyes immediately switched to where his younger daughter stood once he heard her enter the room.

"We were just asking about you" he said merrily, as he turned his head and stood up, she walked towards him "Oh my!" his eyes went glossy in less than a second and a sweet smile was settled on his face. Although a man, Weatherby Swann had always been easy to read regarding his emotions.

"You recognize this, I assume"

"How could I not" he smiled, finally taking a grab of her hands "You look beautiful, Annie. Just as your mother" She smiled too, for that was the nicest thing anyone could say to her.

Both took their usual seats soon after, and the food began to arrive. He sat at the head, she at his left, but the chair on his right remained empty, making his daughter raise her eyebrows and look at him, demanding for an explanation. He immediately caught up on that, already used to her vast diverse physical expressions that made up for the lack of words.

"I believe your sister's having her morning meal in bed" he informed

"Allowed to do that, is she? While I am confined to do it at the table... " a cheeky smile appeared on her face "I will start thinking you are favouring her, father"'

"Don't be ridiculous" he cried, giving a small wave of hands

Of course he knew she was only joking, and her soft giggles did nothing but reinforce that knowledge. Not that the girl had any experience with siblings from a past life, but from what she saw on television and movies, she had expected favourites would be picked and one child would feel inferior to the other, and it had always been a thought of hers that If given the case that she should have a sibling, It'd be her the one left aside. It never happened with Elizabeth; their parents simply loved each individually and the only times when one would get more attention than the other was during birthdays.

"A long day awaits for us, so I thought you girls could have the morning off for yourselves… of course you were ahead of me, as you usually are, Anne" he finished explaining with an amused smile.

She replied with a sheplish one.

"I hope I'll be unerring to assume your acknowledgement regarding today's events, hence your lovely choice of gown" he said warmly as he took a sip of tea. She was wondering when he was going to bring that up since one didn't use gowns that pretty without a reason.

"And you'll be most correct, father" she replied while taking a sip of my her own. She had figured by then her father was trying to keep the whole event a secret from both daughters, but knew he wasn't angry at her for finding out about it, if anything, he seemed diverted.

"May I enquire how you came into the possession of such particulars?"

"A good friend might have said a thing or two"

She swallowed two big pieces of fruits then, hoping he would ask no more of it. It was very amusing to tease her father about it, but that didn't mean she wanted to reveal the source of information. Poor Theodore had been so aggravated after he left the information slid from his mouth and had made her promise not to say a thing to her father. Although she knew her father wouldn't' say a thing if she were to ask him not to, since it wasn't that much big of a deal anyway, she couldn't bring herself to betray Mr. Grooves promise. At the same time, she hated keeping things from her father so if he were to insist too much on it, she'd probably say the truth, which would only aggravate her.

"Very mysterious of you, Anne" he chuckled, and she was glad to see he was letting it go. Had it been Elizabeth instead of Anne, perhaps he'd have pressed for a little longer in order to obtain an answer, but he knew talking under pressure wasn't his youngest forte and that shall the discussed subject be of any importance, she'd say what it was needed to be said at her own pace. "Have you told your sister yet?"

"No, your surprise is safe, papa"

"Well thank you, dear" he laughed

Breakfast was filled with conversation about the promotion, Captain Norrington and a special surprise father had prepared for both sisters, for which Anne begged to know more about but he paid her back and said she'd know soon enough, which made her smile, surprises were always nice. The father also reminded her that she should soon try to release that injured bird they had taken in after multiple begging on her part, since it was likely now fully recovered; she agreed, reluctantly. When the meal was finished, he instructed her to meet him over at Elizabeth's room, so he could give them their surprise.

Before stepping over at Elizabeth's, however, Anne made a stop by her room, allowing herself to a few more instants of staring into the mirror. Not an idiot regarding formalities in the 18th century (after sixteen years of living in it, she had come to learn and accept them), she knew Captain Norrington was approaching his late twenties and society demanded a man of such position of a certain age should soon take a wife, and a younger one was always preferable, for it facilitates breeding. She had just turned sixteen a few months ago, and was hoping that soon, little by little, she'd perhaps get a chance; all she had to do was hope he wouldn't propose to anyone else as she did her growing and so far that had worked, and while perhaps not quite and adult yet, she hoped that he'd start paying more attention, and she guessed the dress she was wearing for his promotion would do its bit to get that done.

Feeling just slightly ashamed of all the time wasted in front of the mirror and her fantasies, she made her way towards her sister's room, only to find a scolding father and her sister looking as if she'd just woke up from a long night; so she only assumed Elizabeth had not, in fact, taken her morning meal in bed.

"You could start taking after your sister's waking hours" Governor Swann added, as Anne sat down in bed with a smile on her face for she admired how even when scolding at them, their father had a soft loving look on his eyes, much different to how Rachel's mother's eyes had been when telling her off.

"Why, It'd take me years to pick up such neat habits as our little mouse's" Elizabeth said, directing a playful smile towards where her sister sat.

Their father decided to ignore the subject, although what seemed like a suppressed smile was showing. The maids made their way in, Estrella opening the curtains; two generous sized boxes resting over Celeste's hands.

"I have a gift for you" he announced to his oldest daughter, and with proud eyes, he revealed a most precious gown, which soon the new owner took on her arms, unfolding it to see it on it all.

"It's beautiful" Elizabeth cried, appreciating the present.

"Is it?"

The dark haired sister stood up as well in order to get nearer to the dress, trying to get a closer look of it and feel the fabric. It was absolutely gorgeous, she confirmed, and knowing how well those kind of soft golden colours favoured her sister, Anne was sure it'd look the loveliest on her. However, Elizabeth, being the smart lady she was, soon caught up on the fact that such expensive presents didn't come without a reason, and with an inquiring raising brow, she asked: "May I inquire as to the occasion?"

"Does a father need an occasion to dote upon his daughters?" Governor Swann raised a single eyebrow, playfully and soon chuckled, ordering then for his eldest to go and try the dress on and she did so with a most pleased and thrilled smile "Which reminds me, this one's for you, Anne dear"

And walking closer to where her father, Celeste and the box stood, Anne was met by a pair of pink coloured silk slippers, a small pair of ribbons on top of it. Taking one of them in her own hands, the teenager smiled for it was her first pair of slippers with a heel of such length.

"These are wonderful. I adore them, father" and with fondness and gratefulness in her chocolate eyes, she leaned over to kiss her father on the cheek, the shoe still on her hand.

"I am most pleased to hear that, darling"

Then, as she left to put her newly acquired items on, her father seemed to have gained courage to admit his real intentions to Elizabeth. Looking out the window, he began: "Actually, I… I had hoped you may wear it for the ceremony today"

"The ceremony?"

"Captain Norrington's promotion ceremony"

"I knew it!" Elizabeth called, her head popping from behind the screen.

"Commodore Norrington, as he's about to become"

"Annie you don't look surprised. Why aren't you surprised?" the blonde Swann inquired with suspicion, for she had immediately posed her look upon her sister, to share a reaction upon the news, only to find Anne looked oddly calm. Knowing the special interest her younger sister took upon the captain, that was not a reaction she had been expecting, unless…

"I did not tell her" her father excused himself, confirming the knowledge of his younger daughter regarding the subject "He's fine gentleman, don't you think? He fancies you, you know?" after not getting an answer and what he thought was some odd breathing, he called for her "Elizabeth? How's it coming?"

Anne wasn't listening with as much attention as before, but that was expected, since she was trying not to let emotion mar her face after hearing her father's words. Of course she was aware that Captain Norrington, along with many other gentlemen, took interest on her sister, but that was only natural, since Elizabeth was not only beautiful on looks but also a charming person all together, but she tried not thinking about it too much because it'd be pointless: for once, Elizabeth would never dare harming her sister in any way, and being aware of Anne's feelings for the man, she'd never take interest in him, besides, Anne knew her sister's heart had been taken by another person many years ago, even if Elizabeth herself was unable to admit that yet.

After Governor Swann and the maids left, the sisters had no other company but themselves, which only made them relax further, waking around the room with a deprocupied air around them. Much to their parents relief, the girls had grown close to one another, being each other's greatest confident, carer and friend. Anne had been worried at first that that wouldn't have been the case, since many times you could dislike the people you loved and that was often the case with sisters, when jealousy would get in the middle of things, but she found herself adoring her sister' playful and adventurous personality, and Elizabeth grew to do the same with Anne's more unusual and gentler nature.

"You look in pain" Anne stated, a trace of playfulness visible on her face as she got closer to her sister, to inspect her from closer "but look most lovely"

"Not very fair, for you look even lovelier and seem perfectly fine" that gained a few chuckles from the youngest, and Elizabeth walked over to where she stood and grabbed her by the forearms, inspecting the gown with caring eyes "You look just like mother did when she wore it, you know?"

"You think so?" starry doe eyes stared at her, a tiny smile resting on Anne's lips.

"Absolutely" was Elizabeth's only response, gently caressing her sister's cheek. Then, turning around and walking towards window, she added teasingly: "Although… you could explain how come you knew about father's wicked intentions"

Knowing her sister unlike her father wouldn't settle with such a vague answer that failed to include names, and that Elizabeth was even less likely than herself to reveal anything to their father, she answered with the complete truth: "Lieutenant Grooves mentioned it to me about half a fortnight ago, around port"

Just seeing Elizabeth's suggestive smile made Anne's cheeks go bright pink.

"Oh, stop it!"

"I didn't say anything" although her face professed how badly she actually wanted to say something.

"Good"

And just when Anne's cheeks had returned to their normal ivory hue and as they prepared themselves to abandon the room and meet their father downstairs, Elizabeth opened her mouth again: "I just think Its really considerate of Lieutenant Grooves to share secrets with you"

"_Elizabeth_!"

Soon the sisters were chasing each other, something quite impressive considering their gowns, and giggles were all that could be heard around the house - that's the scenery Governor Swann and William Turner encountered when they lifted their heads. Soon, both sisters noticed the presence of the young blacksmith and giving that said William Turner was one of the few people with whom Anne was comfortable enough to be around, a gigantic smile appeared on her face, as she turned to Elizabeth, who saw how the opportunity to tease had been switched towards Anne's power.

"William Turner!" Anne whispered among giggles while leaning onto her sister, giving her perhaps one of the cheekiest looks, for it wasn't often that she was in such a silly, playful mood.

A squeeze on her forearm and a warning look from Elizabeth were enough for Anne to drop the teasing, although she kept the playful smile on her lips, for it always got her in a good mood to see young William, one of her few non blood related friends. Sticking to the opinion she had made up about him back when they had first met, when she was nine going on twenty five and he had been fourteen, she thought him to be sweet, loyal and very fun, when he permitted himself to be so in the presence of the ladies; she could see he was a good natured lad who had lived a harsh life and continued to do so every day, parentless, much like she had been once as well.

"Calm, calm, my dears" their father's voice said, affectionately "You two look absolutely stunning"

However such praise was ignored, for Elizabeth's attention was stolen by a certain brown eyed someone, as she cried: "Will! It's so good to see you", leaving her sister a few steps behind as she made her way towards the subject of interest. Anne walked down as she watched both with warm eyes, because to her, being the person who knew Elizabeth the most, it seemed clear that her interest on young William Turner was beyond friendship, and judging by the always more nervous, delicate and formal way in which he address her older sister, in comparison to herself, it was also clear that he liked her too, as a little bit more than friends.

Linking her arms to her father's, she heard as Elizabeth claimed about a dream she had the previous night, which involved, of course, Mr. Turner. It was almost painful to see, for his nervousness was as clear as water.

"About me?"

"Is that entirely proper for you to…

"About the day we met, do you remember?"

"How could I forget, Miss Swann"

"Will, how many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?"

"At least once more, Miss Swann. As always"

It pained Anne to see the look of disappointment on Elizabeth's face. It was hard to see, coming from the 21th century, something as silly as social status to come between such clearly attracted to each other people as William and her sister were; Anne had had more time than necessary to learn the ways of the current times, and all she had left was the hope, that one day, with a little help from herself, both lovebirds could be together, if they wished to, for she knew although he wouldn't encourage it, their father wouldn't dare to think any less of Elizabeth were she to choose William Turner as a husband; the only problem was, despite her sister's various votes of confidence on him, such as offering the familiarity of being called by first names, the blacksmith still stood by the social rules firmly.

It was Anne's believe, well, more like hope, that she had been gifted with the opportunity of life again for a reason, and guarding for her sister's happiness certainly looked like something worth another chance at breathing. She did small things, not too evident for anyone to think they were anything but mere coincidence, mentioning romantic stories about two lovers who were apart due to different backgrounds when her sister was around; bringing up stories about how happy 'the daughter of that duke who married the baker' was - said lady had been the scandal of London back when they were children and been talked about for weeks until the next came.

"Good day, William" Anne said with a nod, just before turning over the door, her arm still over her father's and her sister following close behind.

* * *

Elizabeth and Anne had just managed to escape a tiring conversation with Mrs. Carew-Shepperd, the wife of a former admiral and mother of two sons that lived in England and who she believed would be such perfect match for both Swann sisters. Any social event seemed like the perfect opportunity for every middle aged woman in Port Royal to catch a look of the Governor's daughters and decide they were good enough to be married to the remaining single gentlemen in their families; most setups were aimed to Elizabeth, but from time to time, more often now than ever before due to her current journey towards womanhood, Anne was drawn into those schemes and not knowing well how do dealt with them, needed of the constant company of her sister to leave the conversation alive (or more like it, without a proposal)

Talking to the officers was rather different. Not that either Swann girl took interest on any of them, for they were already fixated on different men, but it was entertaining nevertheless - they told stories of their adventures and were beyond kind when talking to the ladies. Still, those conversations also were long and with some officers, these could get boring towards the end.

So indeed two sisters were giggling and heading towards a corner, hoping to spend at least a few moments unbothered with no other presence but each other's. Elizabeth let out a sigh and Anne gave one last chuckle when she caught sight of two people approaching; two people with whom she was familiar with; and two people who she liked greatly.

"Commodore, Liutenant Grooves" Anne greeted, and her sister soon followed the example, her voice much confident and louder than Anne's. Not a minute short, both gentleman did as expected.

"Enjoying the ceremony?" Commodore Norrington asked to them both, a tang of nervousness adorning his voice, making him (without his knowledge) completely irresistible to the youngest Swann sister.

"Very much" Elizabeth answered, as always assuming the proactive role in the conversation "A most beautiful day, isn't that right, Anne?"

"Lovely" was the brunette's answer and it gained her a brilliant smile from Theodore Grooves, her dear friend, who held her in high esteem and always seemed to leave conversations with the lady with a pleased air around him.

Mr. Norrington simply gave a small nod and a polite grin, and the lack of words from his part that came after surprised Anne and made her think perhaps he was not interested in their ongoing conversation, which was odd. It felt almost as if he didn't want to be a part of it. It was confirmed after he cleared up his throat and said: "Miss Swann, Elizabeth, I was wondering if I could have a word with you"

Instead of giving an answer straight away, the blonde turned her head to face her sister, who remained to look as unbothered by the request as she should have been had she not had any feelings for the man in question. Not only was she good at keeping her emotions on watch, but also, this conversation Mr. Norrington intended to have with her sister may've been purely innocent and there was no need for her to be aggravated by that.

"Of course" she said, giving her sister a soft touch on the hand "I shall be right back, Anne"

"Miss Swann" the Commodore nodded her way, as he offered his arm to Elizabeth.

Not wanting to look a the pair for too long, for it would be no good for her, Anne turned to look at Theodore, offering him a tender smile and the start of a friendly conversation. The two had been friends for that of two years now, and he was one of the few people his age who she considered made interesting conversation.

"My father was most amused when he realized I already knew about today's gathering"

"You haven't told, have you?" in his voice there was no doubt that he already knew the answer.

"Of course not. I don't kiss and tell"

That produced a chuckle on the young boy, for he quickly recognized the phrase as that used on '_Burlesque upon Burlesque_', a book by Charles Cotton that had belonged to Anne Swann until she passed it along to Theodore Grooves. It was quite an enjoyable book and the lady was having her second go at it when walking around the shore one morning, when she had ran into the Lieutenant; he mentioned to her that it had been quite a while since he had spent some alone time with a book out of pleasure, and that's when she decided to make it a present for him. The line had stuck into both teenagers: for Anne, because it was quite popular back in 2017 and it seemed amusing to be able to use it again; to Theodore, because that was the first time he was hearing of it - she guessed it'd be at least another hundred years until the phrase gained popularity.

"I suppose it is not too wild of me to say you look lovely, Anne"

Instead of a blush, what any proper young lady should've gotten, Anne smiled with fondness. Not only was it a sweet thing to say, but it was coming out of a dear person who she trusted, and most importantly, it helped a great deal to ignore the fact the man she lusted after had just requested to have a private conversation with her slightly always prettier older sister.

"Well thank you, Theo. You look handsome yourself" that did gain a blush of his part, and although she meant it to come out as a witty remark, it was the truth "Soon we'll be gathering here for your own promotion, that shall be exciting"

"I'm not so sure about that." he said, the face of true modesty "Were it to happen, I hope I shall count with you being present?"

"You have my word" she smiled at him, posing a hand over his lower arm, and removing it with care "Have you given 'Gulliver's Travels' a bit of your attention? Don't you love it as much as I do?"

"As a matter of fact-

And Theodore Grooves was never able to finish that sentence, for the desperate calling of Elizabeth's name made both young people turn their attention towards were Mr. Norrington stood looking at the ocean, _alone_, without Elizabeth Swann. Every single social rule a well raised young woman should follow was broken by Anne Swann the minute she realized what had happened, and she ran towards where the Commodore stood along with other two newly arrived.

One look down and she confirmed the worst: her sister had fallen into the sea. Everything seemed like a nightmare, but she didn't seem to be waking up. A hand rested on her waist, assuring she would not follow the same destiny as Elizabeth had - it was Mr. Grooves', who had followed her close behind with almost as much desperation as she had held, but she did not turn to check if it was indeed him or someone else, in fact, she didn't even feel anything touch her until she felt it harden its grip when she tried to jump.

"I need to save her!" she shouted, once again trying to get closer to the cliff and ready to jump, but Theodore Groove's grip on her didn't allow her to do such a thing,

She didn't even need to ask for an explanation as for why she should not jump to the waters, for the other navy men were just telling Commodore Norrington that the rocks could kill him the minute he touched the water. Instead of staying and argue, the Commodore ran down to the shore, and Anne could only pray he'd get there on time - if not, she didn't know what she'd do.

Taking a hold of the Lieutenant's hand, Anne began a travecy of her own, draggin the youngman with her all the way were she hoped she'd see her sister still breathing alongside Commodore Norrington. She was aware she probably bumped into some people, Mrs. Carew- Shepperd being one of them - not that she recognized her. It'd be one tragic thing if Elizabeth were to die the same way Anne had many years ago.

All she could think of as her legs ran as fast as they were able to in the discomfort of such a dress, corset and sandals, was that she'd do anything if her sister survived. She prayed to God, cried for help in the riot that was her mind. How had she dared thinking negatively of her sister a few minutes ago; allowing herself to feel jealousy towards her own, beautiful, sister - Anne promised God to never again allow those feelings take hold of her regarding Elizabeth, or anyone else, if she survived.

"She's not breathing!" a voice was heard saying, one officer.

Anne felt the tears she had been holding finally running free on her face, and she kept on running. Soon, she was next to her sister's unconscious body, but just as she was leaning down and screaming her name, the blonde began throwing up water and breathing. Letting out breath she didn't know she was holding, Anne allowed herself to smile, tears still running down her face.

In the spite of the moment, she stood up and hugged the first familiar non recovering face she saw, which was that of Mr. Grooves. Not prolonging the gesture long enough for her to feel embarrassed, she soon retrieved her attention back to her sister, kneeling down again, and missing the redness that spread across the lieutenant's cheeks and neck.

"Elizabeth!" she whispered lovingly, full of relief, running a palm over her sister's cold cheek. She was now holding her sister's head over her lap, wet blonde hair all over it; her arm was circling Elizabeth's frame, and she was trying to give as much warmth as physically possible. Elizabeth's eyes and attention were aimed somewhere else.

When the youngest Swann sister turned to see what that was, she was met by a tanned, dirty and quite unusual man, who was not exactly staring at her sister's face, but more like her chest - when Anne looked down, she noticed it wasn't exactly her sister's chest what was of interest to this man either, but rather a strange golden medallion she had never seen in all her life.

He asked her where had she gotten that from, and Anne looked at Elizabeth in request of the same answer, for had it been any other medallion, it wouldn't have mattered, but that looked dangerously pirate, and the fact that such a man like the one who kneeled along with her was inquiring about it, made it even more suspicious.

Elizabeth wasn't able to give an answer. Anne wasn't even sure she was physically able to.

Commodore Norrington along with some other members of the Navy were surronding them, a sword pointing towards the strange man and close to Anne's own brown head.

"On your feet"

Every man stood up, while Anne remained on the ground with her sister, half of her attention put into the man, the other half making sure her sister was still conscious and recovering.

This would be the first time she was exposed to such a scene, with swords and the possibility of a fight. During her old life, things hadn't been easy but usually everything went down to yelling and perhaps slaps or hair pulling (the 21th century lacked on dramatism); during her new one, both her father and mother made sure their children were protected from things she was sure many other kids in the 18th century were used to seeing on their everyday life. Hadn't her sister been laying cold as a ghost on the floor, water still coming off her nose and mouth, she would have even said it was a rather exciting scene to be a part of - even if only on the sidelines.

She wasn't able to stay on the ground for too long, for her father came a few seconds after, inquiring for Elizabeth and dragging her to her feet, to give her his coat and cover her up, for as Anne along with Weatherby Swann realized, Elizabeth had been forced out of most her clothes.

"Shoot him" her father said, and it was the first time Anne had ever heard him said anything of the such.

"_Father_!" Elizabeth said, turning her head to look to the uniformed men "Commodore, do you really intent to kill my rescuer?"

After some minutes of hesitation on his part, Norrington obliged, and the swords were taken away from his brown face. Not a second after, the Commodore was offering his hand out to this stranger.

"I believe thanks are in order" and just when Anne was thinking of what a perfect gentleman Norrington was, behaving in such a polite and equal way towards a man who looked so obviously inferior to him in all range, wealth, and very likely, education, the Commodore took the liberty to pull the man's dirty sleeve up, revealing a 'P' engraved on his skin, like cattle "Had a brush with the East India Trading Companu, did we, pirate?"

"Hang him!"

"Keep your guns on him, and Gillette, fetch some irons"

Prying a bit higher on his arm, the Commodore came across this pirate's name, Jack Sparrow.

Conversation was kept between the Commodore and the pirate, and soon some of the other navy officers joined in, but Anne was too busy to pay attention, busy experiencing something she had never felt, well, never towards the people towards whom she was feeling it. Anger was building up, little by little, in Anne's small chest. How could these men, Commodore Norrington, her father as well, treat so lowly a man who had risked his own life to save Elizabeth's? A man whom without his help, her sister could've possibly drowned? Perhaps a pirate, perhaps dross, but a brave man who had saved the dearest person to her.

"You are without a doubt the worst pirate I have ever heard of"

"But you have heard of me"

And that's when Anne did perhaps the most out of character thing she could possibly do. Something young ladies of her social status were never supposed to do; something ladies of any statues were supposed to do; something no one on their right mind would've expected shy Anne Swann to do - Elizabeth, perhaps, but not Anne. She shook hands with a pirate.

"Mr. Sparrow, I thank you for saving my sister. May God bless your path" she said sincerily with a bow, leaving everyone around (pirate included) on complete surprise.

The pirate raised his brows with cookiness, and then said to no one in particular: "These Port Royal lasses sure are grateful, perhaps you could show me some of that gratefulness more later" and then he winked an eye to one of the uniformed men closer to him.

Nothing else could be said on Anne's part; once, because she didn't know what to say; secondly, because she refused to answer to such disrespectful implication and ofensse to her persona; and thirdly, because Commodore Norrington was pulling him by the forearm with great force, anger visible on his face as he did so.

It was then Elizabeth, the one who came to the pirate's resque, getting rid of her father's coat and following the men: "Commodore, I really must protest!"

"Carefully, Liutenant" he instructed to one of his men, the one handcuffing Sparrow.

"Pirate or not this man saved my life"

"One good deed does not redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness"

"It's enough to condemn him" the pirate added.

"Indeed" Norrington said, then proceeding to ignore the Captain again, to face the young woman "You have seen yourself, Miss Swann, this man's ill treatment of your own sister. If that's doesn't seem like reason enough to condemn him, I don't know what it is"

And that day, the day of her first interaction with a pirate, Anne learnt one thing: the basterds were quick.

"Finally" Sparrow said, and then proceeded to press his chains against Elizabeth's neck, forcing her to crook her head back in order to keep breathing

The only thing that kept Anne from jumping to fight the pirate with her own bare hands was the fact that once again, Liutenant Grooves was holding her, this time by her wrist, for which she was grateful, had she done what her initial reaction had told her to (go and fight the pirate, that was) it may have gotten not only herself, but Elizabeth killed in the process. All she was able to do was stand by the sidelines, observing her sister's luck depend on the hands of what she assumed to be perhaps the most unpleasant individual with whom she had ever crossed paths with during this life. The feeling of impotence was overpowering, and she felt her eyes, once again, fill up with tears as the pirate commanded Elizabeth to practically dress him up.

"Gentleman, my ladies, you will always remember this as the day that you almost caught Captain Jack Sparrow" and as he said his last name, he pushed Elizabeth towards them, to run off.

Even in her current state of anger, Anne was able to admit to herself that the whole thing was beyond impressive, and when fire was open by the King's men, as her sister and herself were held by their father's embrace, she told herself to take back every single time she had thought the 18th century was a bit boring in comparison to the 21st.

* * *

Anne was beyond grateful her father wasn't home that night, for she knew what would await for her the minute he found some free time to do so, and that was to 'have a word' regarding her behaviour with the pirate. Now, she knew her father wouldn't tell her off, he wasn't like that, but he'd probably list her about a thousand reasons of why what she did shouldn't be repeated under any circumstances, but she didn't want to be reminded of her own stupidity. Believing a pirate could be somehow of a decent man, Anne wanted to laugh at herself, but the self embarrassment didn't allow her to do so.

With a soft knock on her sister's door, Anne awaited to see her sister in private for the first time after all that mess of a day, for both Elizabeth and her had taken baths, and during those times they hadn't been allowed to be by themselves.

"Come in"

The thin smile on her lips grew a little when her sister returned it, and it was safe to say both Swann girls were overly exhausted. Not even having to ask for it, the eldest pulled the covers away on the right side of the bed, so her sister could lie with her.

Just as they did every once in a while, since they were little girls, Elizabeth and Anne lied in bed together, their arms tangled around the other, and Elizabeth's chin resting over Anne's head. Back in the old days, in London, they used to do that a lot, their mother in the middle, holding one girl to each side; after her mother's passing they continued the little tradition themselves. No words were necessary, they said all they had to say through their eyes and actions, and just as Elizabeth was about to fall asleep, her eyes weighting more and more each time she blinked - Anne already long gone, the unmistakable sound of canyons shooting was heard close enough to have them both jumping in their place.

Elizabeth barely had enough time to put on her robe before going to check on the balcony, Anne wasn't so lucky, and found herself in the shelter of night with only her nightgown. What they saw was fighting, and Anne remembered those period films she sometimes watched, in which war was the main protagonist. Fire, shouting, darkness, the smell of terrible knews.

Even worst, the shouting got closer, and before they knew it, several men were entering the property, the place that until a few minutes ago had seemed like the safest place on earth. They knew they had to run. Grabbing her sister by the hand, Elizabeth began to run towards the main room, looking to secure the door.

Too bad one of their employees had to open the door.

For the first time in their lives, Anne and Elizabeth saw someone getting killed.

The scream of pure fear that came out of the blonde drowned whatever little gasp Anne let out, and once again being the most proactive of the two, Elizabeth dragged her sister away from the danger.

"They've come to kidnap you!" Estrella shouted at the eldest sister, as soon as the the pair made it through the door, grabbing her by the shoulders. That gesture of confidence only reinforced the feeling of desperation every single one of them was feeling.

"What?"

"You're the Governor's daughters"

The realization that fell upon Elizabeth was something Anne had realized long ago, they were probably going to die or held hostages, then die.

Sooner than they would've liked it, the men made their way into the room. Elizabeth ran towards the next room, while Anne and Estrella hid under a piece of furniture, as the eldest Swann had commanded. The men followed Elizabeth immediately, and Anne had to fight her instinct to go after them, waiting instead, for the most opportune moment.

That came when Elizabeth hit one of them in the face with a boiling red bed warmer, knoking him down immediately. The other one, however, took hold of the handle, and made it difficult for her sister to hit him, so knowing if there was any opportune moment to fight a possible pirate that was possibly it, Anne got out of her hidden spot. Running towards them with a heavy 16th century vase on her hands, Anne watched how her impressive sister burned one of them with the heated embers in amazement. When the other one made an attempt to stand up again - how he could do that still after what had happened to him, was beyond Anne's understanding - she smashed the vase on his head, and once again, he fell.

However, she must've underestimated how strong boned and flesh 18th century men were, for they stood up no long after, resuming with their chasing of them downstairs, were chaos reigned.

It seemed as if they were possibly going to make it, but the skinniest one jumped from the upper level towards where they were, leaving the sisters between him and his partner. From such close proximity, Anne confirmed these people were indeed, pirates, for they looked just as nasty as the one she had encountered earlier that day.

Perhaps Anne Swann weighted little more over a hundred and ten pounds, and was no taller than the average lady, but God gave her strength to push her whole body weight and that of a dozen men against the skinny pirate, tumbling him down just as a cannonball crashed against one of the house's pillars and made a chandelier fall over him - Elizabeth and Anne escaping, urharmed.

Hadn't it been for Elizabeth, Anne would've stayed staring in horror for a lifetime, for she had just killed a man. Pirate or not, her intention or not, she had pushed someone and made him fall to a certain dead. She seemed to be in the most profound state of shock, for when they entered a new room, after locking up the door with a candle holder, Elizabeth grabbed both her cheeks in between her palms, lowering her head and moving her face closer to Anne's

"Annie, we can make it. We just have to make it through until the officers come, alright?" Anne wasn't answering "Come on, compose yourself" still, not even a blink "_Anne_!" Elizabeth shouted, her patience running low.

That made the brunette snap out of it. Nodding like a mad woman, she whispered "You're right"

Elizabeth nodded, understandingly: "Come, help me get this out"

With a lot of struggle, they got the swords up on the wall off. Sadly, they were merely decoration, for they were unable to get them separated from the marmol holding them together.

The door was struggling, someone was getting in, time was running low.

"Elizabeth we have to hide!"

"They'll find us!" the taller sister breathed, as she kept on trying to get the swords out

"It's not coming out. Stop it and hide!" and yanking her sister's robe, while Elizabeth accepted the fact her sister was right, both ladies ran towards a wardrobe.

Hugging her sister and praying, that's how Anne spent what she thought were her last minutes alive - praying perhaps by some miracle, they wouldn't find them; praying that if they did, they'd give them a quick death; praying that if they died, she may be allowed to go to Heaven with her sister and mother, and not be confined to another life, as good and blessed that new possible life may be. Praying God to forgive her for killing a man.

"We know you're here poppets"

"Poppets!"

"We promise we won't hurt you"

"We will find you poppets"

"You've got something of ours, and it calls to us. The gold call to us"

"The gold"

By then, both sisters were staring at Elizabeth's golden medallion, to then look at each other, trying to understand what possibly could be about such a tiny thing to provoke what was happening outside.

"Parley" her sister shouted, and the pirates didn't harm her.

Anne wouldn't have been more surprised by the fact that her sister knew of such things as a pirate code and whatever parley was, had she not been unable to move her eyes away from the skinny pirate who no long ago she had seen crashed under a chandelier, now breathing and moving as if nothing but the pestilence of not showering in a long time was affecting him.

In fact, that was all she could think about as the pirates took them to their ship.


End file.
